


Miles to Go

by blackcoffeeandteardrops



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s10e06 My Struggle II, Post-Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:32:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackcoffeeandteardrops/pseuds/blackcoffeeandteardrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Will, I want you to know that if there’s anything you want to ask me, anything at all that you want to know or you want to say, I don’t want you to hesitate. Okay?”// Aka an interpretation of some things that happen once the screen fades to black on X-Files season ten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all know how sometimes something grabs ahold of you and refuses to let go? That was this story. I can't promise that it's perfect, but it's born from a place of such love and adoration for these characters who over the last year have grown to mean so much to me. My only hope is that I do them justice. If everything goes as planned, there will be two or possibly three more parts to this. I'm still ironing out a few kinks. Anyway, thank you so much for reading!

Of all the ways Scully imagined one day seeing her son again, the sight of him huddled in the corner of a shed, sleeves pulled over his hands and holding onto a shotgun wasn’t one of them. She’d hastily written the address Skinner had given her on a Wendy’s napkin & hopped onto the first flight to Wyoming she could, unsure of what she’d find. She still wasn’t sure how he’d been able to get her the address so quickly, but that was a question for later. The entire flight was spent mentally preparing for the conversation she’d have with William’s parents--a little piece of her winced every time she thought that--but when she arrived at the address and no answer came when she knocked at the door, a sick feeling began to grow in the pit of her stomach. The virus had spread quickly across the country, and as she’d perused articles on line during her flight, she began to realize the entire world. Scully had closed her eyes and prayed, silently hoping she hadn’t raced across the country to save Mulder only to be too late.

The front door was locked, so she’d decided to investigate the back. She didn’t come this far to leave empty handed, although she reminded herself that it was ultimately their choice. She had her hand on the back door knob, wondering at the fact it was apparently unlocked, when a sound from the shed in the yard made her turn around. Her hand rested on the gun at her hip, but she resisted releasing it from the holster. Something inside warned that caution was necessary considering the circumstances. She opened the shed door slowly, eyes peering through the dust motes flying in the dim light, and she jumped back when the figure in the corner quickly stood up. She blinked a few times, trying to match the auburn haired teenager with the baby whose picture she carried in her wallet even still. The ground felt shaky underneath her as she locked her blue eyes with his. "William?”

His hands clutched the gun, not quite waving it in her direction, but making it clear he knew how to use it. “I knew you’d come for me.”

A gasp escaped before she could help it. She’d dreamt about him countless times, what he’d look like and things they’d do, but she never imagined he’d do the same. “You know who I am?”

William pointed the gun in the direction of the one resting in her holster. “They came and took their bodies this morning. Figured it was only a matter of time before they sent someone to take me.”

“Bodies?” Scully asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Haven’t you been watching the news, lady?” he asked, a bitter laugh escaping. He let one hand free from his gun, wiping at the nose that so much resembled his father’s and shook his head. “Dad held out longer, but they both succumbed to this virus. They said on the news that someone found a cure, but they didn’t find it in enough time to save my parents.”

Scully fought back the tears she felt brewing, knowing it wouldn’t do either of them any good. “William, I am so sorry. How--” she stopped, shaking her head. “How long ago did this happen? How long have you been out here by yourself?”

“Mom died two days ago, and dad did yesterday. I go in the house, but somehow it just feels better to be out here,” he replied. He shivered in the jacket that was clearly too big for him. “But wait, if you’ve come to take me, shouldn’t you know all of this stuff?” he asked, his hands curling tighter around the gun. He narrowed his eyes, taking a moment to size up the woman standing before him. He blinked, shaking his head as if to push unrealized thoughts away. Impossible. “How do you know my name?”

She knew better than to laugh, or to outwardly acknowledge the metaphorical knife she felt twisting in her gut at his words. She’d had this fantasy of him remembering who she was, of recalling days spent cradled in her arms as she sang lullabies to him that were almost painfully out of tune, but such dreams were foolish. “The answer to that question is a little complicated, but I promise that you can trust me,” she replied, hoping he understood. She rubbed her arms, having done her best until that point to ignore the late winter chill. “Would it be okay if we continued this conversation inside?”

William eyed her for a moment, almost as if he were sizing her up and weighing his options. He lowered his gun to the workbench, still keeping one hand on it as he spoke. “I don’t even know you. Why do I feel like I can trust you?”

The lump in Scully’s throat was growing tighter. This conversation was bound to take a serious turn soon, and for all of their sakes she hoped to handle it well. “That’s part of why I came here actually, to talk to you about that. Would it be okay if we went inside?” she asked again, this time a little more insistent. He was stubborn, clearly fighting being cold, but if she was going to come out with it she wanted them to be more comfortable. She held her hands up, signaling that she meant him no harm. The thought occurred to her that the people who had been his parents for the majority of his life had died inside that house, and so perhaps going back in wasn’t something he felt comfortable with, and with a woman he knew to be a stranger no less. “We don’t have to if it’s something you don’t want.”

William considered his options before brushing past her, his shoulder bumping against hers as he passed by. He stopped for a moment, turning back to face her, eyebrows knitted together. He chewed at his bottom lip, pulling at a piece of dead skin like his mother had always warned him not to.

“Is everything alright?” Scully asked, kicking herself for even daring to ask. Of course it wasn’t.

Something moved in the air like electricity as he stared back at her, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Nothing,” he says, waving it off despite the itch in his head that said otherwise. “I just thought….nevermind. Come on, I’ll show you where the kitchen is.”

Being inside the house was something Scully had tried preparing for on her flight, but physically being there was something different altogether. This was where William had spent his life, where he’d grown up. There were grade school pictures in popsicle frames secured with a magnet on the fridge, and on the doorway leading to the living room there were pencil markings with dates indicating his growth. He hadn’t just lived here, she thought, her index finger tracing a line from 2006. He’d grown so much even by then. She jumped suddenly at the sound of his voice. “What was that?”

William waved a chipped coffee mug in her direction. “I asked if you like sugar in your coffee. We don’t have a lot left, but you can have it if you want it.”

She caught the “we”, and having now lost both of her own parents, she knew it would take him a long time to get over it. “You can have it, I’ll be fine.”

William laughed, shaking his head as he looked out the kitchen window. “If you believe the news, practically half our population is either dead or dying. I don’t see how anyone could be fine right now.”

She smiled as she took the coffee from him and they both settled at the dining table. She took a tentative sip, thinking of how in another life she might’ve scolded him for drinking coffee so young, but now it wasn’t her place, and even if it were she couldn’t possibly blame him. Scully was about to speak, in spite of not knowing exactly where to begin, when she caught him staring.

“Your necklace,” William said, hand reaching out for a moment, halting in midair before it fell to the table. “I’ve never seen it before. Why do I feel like it’s familiar?”

An image flickered in her mind of a young William, who couldn’t have been older than six months, clutching to the cross pendant she wore around her neck like body armor as she tried in vain to rock him to sleep. He’d been restless that night as a storm raged, and had eventually fallen asleep with her necklace clutched tight in his little hand. Scully reached up to her neck, rotating the chain so that the clasp rested behind her neck and the cross sat properly against her chest. She wondered briefly if she even had the right to tell him, due to everything he’d lost in such a short amount of time. But if the young man sitting across from her had inherited at least half of Mulder’s curiosity, there stood a decent chance he’d figure some of it out on his own. She thought of Mulder lying in a DC hospital bed, doing his best to cling to life with the temporary relief her cure would provide him, and she knew they didn’t have much time. “Because, William. You _have_ seen it.”

William pushed his chair away from the table, but he didn’t get up. He was afraid, but something had happened when he walked past this woman outside. He’d felt a connection to her despite there being no real reason to, and if she could provide a reason, then he was willing to hear it. He folded his hands around his mug, relishing in the warmth that leeched into his palms. “What do you mean?”

Scully took a deep breath. There was no way she could catch him up on everything surrounding the last fifteen years in the short amount of time Mulder had, but if there was any hope in saving him, she had to try. “Let’s just say there are some things you need to know,” she said. She began by explaining how she was the one who’d discovered the cure, but how there was a man back home who the cure wasn’t enough for. And from there the words regarding his identity came spilling out. She avoided his gaze for the most part, her eyes fixing on the table instead as she spoke, until she got to the end in revealing what she wanted him to do. “I wish I could’ve figured out the cure sooner. Soon enough to save them, to save more people. I’m sorry, William.” The thought crossed her mind that she’d said his name more today than she had in years.

“Me too,” he replied. He was silent for a moment, faced fixed in a look of deep thought. “I never really got sick as a kid. Not even so much as a sinus infection. A lot of kids in my class thought it was kind of weird. Do you think maybe all of this is why?”

Scully shrugged, relieved that he was at least still in the same room rather than running in the opposite direction. “It could simply be coincidence, but considering our shared DNA, yes. It’s possible.”

William nodded slowly. “So,” he said, finger tracing the rim of his mug. His shoulders were hunched, but suddenly he remembered the reprimands of his childhood and sat up straight. “Fox...Mulder. That’s a weird name, by the way. Anyway...you really think that I can save him?”

“I think together we can, yes,” she replied, afraid to say more. She was going to let him take the lead, at least for the time being.

“And this procedure, you’re aware of how it’s done? And you’ll be there?” William asked. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“Yes to both. But William, I want to be perfectly clear about something,” Scully replied. She was afraid of how he’d respond to what she had to say next, but she also knew it was something that needed to be said. “I want to be clear on the fact this is your decision. You have been through more in the last couple of days than any kid your age should have to go through. It would mean leaving here as soon as we can. It would mean surgery, surgery that might even hurt a little bit, and it would mean time in the hospital. Please know I understand how much this is asking of you, so if it’s something you feel uncomfortable--”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Scully asked, her voice a harsh whisper.

William was silent for a moment, nodding slowly to himself before catching her eye. She’d given him a very cursory summary of what had happened in the years since they’d last met, but somehow he felt connected to her in a way he wasn’t sure he could explain. “If you truly believe I can help him, then why shouldn’t I?”

As much as she wanted the gift he was offering, she also knew there were a lot of things left to be said, along with at least a dozen reasons why it might not be a good idea. But as the clock on the wall kept ticking, she knew the longer they waited, the less time Mulder had. “Thank you, William. I suppose that means you should pack some bags. Would you be more comfortable if I stepped outside?”

This woman who had given birth to him and yet, as she’d explained, had given him up to keep him safe, was now again taking his comfort into consideration. He fidgeted in his chair, the thought only now occurring to him. “But one more thing before I do. If I wasn’t gonna be safe with you before, what makes you so sure you can keep me safe now?”

There was vulnerability in his voice, but also a hint of a dare, as if he were expecting her to slip up or not know the answer. “I suppose that’s a fair question. A lot of the people who were after us are gone now, but truthfully? I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t absolutely certain you would be safe. I would never have come here if I thought there was a chance it would put any of us in greater danger. Do you believe me?”

He was silent, drinking the last of his coffee before he set the mug down with a dull thud and sliding his chair back. “I don’t know why, but I do. I’m gonna go pack my stuff. Oh, but Dana?”

She knew she had no right to feel the pin prick of sadness at hearing her first name spilling from his lips, but it was there just the same. “Yeah?”

He lingered in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s just...you can call me Will. That’s kinda what I go by now, and I’m sorry if that’s weird for you or whatever. I mean, my parents...they told me they kept the name my birth mother gave me. But I just kinda like the short version. I just thought you should know that if we’re gonna go through with all of this. Okay?”

Scully’s hand reached up to touch the cross that had helped start the entire conversation, and she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said, smiling sadly as she stood up. She pointed towards the back door. “I’ll be outside whenever you’re ready.”

On the way back to the airport, she’d spoken with Einstein, who confirmed that Mulder was holding steady, but that his prognosis was not good. She also relayed the message that the cure seemed to still be working well for others who hadn’t been as exposed, and that the major hospitals all seemed to be back in working order. Life was still disheveled, but was for the most part trying to return to normal. On the plane she offered William the aisle seat due to his need for more leg room, only to realize once they were getting ready for take off that he was far more interested in what was going on outside the window.

“The people, they kinda look like bugs. My friend Sam had an ant farm when we were younger, and the colony kept running back and forth. It’s sort of like that,” he said, and for a moment everything about him seemed much more like the fifteen year old kid he was rather than a young man caught in an impossible situation. He realized he was leaning against her arm rest and was invading her personal space, so he quickly sat back. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve never been on a plane before. This is kind of exciting.”

“It is exciting, yeah,” Scully replied, ducking her head as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But, um, you actually _have_ been on a plane before.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I’m sorry,” he replied. He fumbled with his seatbelt, checking that it was secured properly.

“Don’t be. You’ve been through a great deal, but there’s no need to apologize,” she said, meaning every word. She reached down to the bin at their feet, fishing into her purse for two sticks of gum. She handed him a piece and started unwrapping her own as the plane began picking up speed and the wheels left the ground. “Sometimes chewing gum can help your ears not pop as much. When it’s safe, we can trade seats. The view is even better once we’re up near the clouds.”

William agreed to take her seat once they were high enough, and he spent most of the ride staring out the window. But the closer the plane got to DC, the more questions began tugging at his mind. “What’s he like?”

Scully looked up from the paperback she’d only been pretending to read. “What?”

He tilted towards her. “Fox. My biological dad. If my...DNA or whatever can help him, that’s great. But shouldn’t I at least know a little bit about him first?”

Scully smiled, closing the book and clutching it tightly in her hands as she spoke. She hadn’t really given much thought to that subject, but now she realized she probably should. “You’re right. Well, first, he’d hate it if he heard you calling him that.”

“What, Fox? But that’s his name. It’s weird, but it’s his name,” William replied with a shrug. “I really don’t feel comfortable calling him...well--”

“I know, and you don’t have to,” Scully replied. She wondered how many times the mood of conversation would start off light with them only to take a heavy turn. “He goes by his last name. Mulder. He always has, ever since I met him.”

William wrinkled his nose, shaking his head at the thought. “Does he know how weird that is?”

“Yes, he does. But that doesn’t stop him from insisting to be called it,” she replied with a laugh. The amusement in his eyes had died down however, and cautiously she reached her hand out to rest on his arm. “What is it?”

He shook his head, feet bumping against the seat in front of them. “It’s nothing.”  
“No, it’s not nothing,” she replied. She waited for a moment, studying his profile that was so much like his father’s. “Will, I want you to know that if there’s anything you want to ask me, anything at all that you want to know or you want to say, I don’t want you to hesitate. Okay?”

He nodded in confirmation. “I guess I just wondered what he thought about all of this. About you running off to find me.”

“He was too sick for me to tell him anything before I left. The medication I concocted for everyone would help him, but it became clear it wasn’t enough. The virus had so badly affected his system that while he was awake, there wasn’t enough time to explain,” she said. She watched as he nodded along while she spoke, hoping that he understood.

“Do you think he’ll be mad?” William asked, picking at a hangnail on his thumb with his teeth. He stared at his hands rather than at her.

“No, on the contrary, I believe he’ll be happy,” she replied immediately, wanting to leave no room for doubt. She just hoped that when the time came for all three of them to be in the same space that she’d be right. The plane jolted slightly and the seatbelt sign came on again just before a flight attendant informed them they’d be landing shortly. She drew in a deep breath, sending up a silent prayer that everything would go as well as she hoped. “Ready?”


	2. Chapter 2

Scully had been in so many hospital cafeterias over the years, either as a patient, waiting for someone in hospital, or even just grabbing a bite to eat on her lunch break. She’d stared at countless posters on walls bragging about how the hospital was the best at something, or advertising a health fair. She’d heard dozens of doctors be paged away from their one chance that day to sit down and eat. The food varied depending upon the place, but she could remember eating like her life depended on it just the same. But sitting across from William, watching as he wiped crumbs from the turkey club he ate from his mouth, the thought occurred this was the first meal they’d shared together, and at a hospital no less. True, she’d bottle fed him a time or two while trying to eat her own food, but this was the first time they’d sat down and ate together. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” William replied, setting his sandwich down and taking a heavy slurp from the cup of fountain soda she’s questioned but bought for him none the less. He’d given so much of himself, the kid deserved a soda. “I’m still sore. Is that normal?”

Scully nodded, stabbing at her caesar salad, but finding out she was no longer hungry. “It can be, yes. But if that continues to happen, I need you to tell me. I know the doctor said it was okay to get out of your room for a little bit, but it’s important that you rest. We don’t want to put you at risk.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, you know. I can take care of myself,” William mutters, pushing a grape across his plate. Across the table he can hear her gasp and a part of him feels guilty for eliciting such a reaction, but from the moment he woke up from surgery, she’d done nothing but make sure he was warm enough or had a good movie on TV, and now she’d drug him from his room to make him eat something. There was scarcely enough time for him to adjust to waking up in a hospital bed before she launched into doctoring him. He glanced up at her through his lashes and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

Scully shook her head, drawing a breath in slowly through her nose, hoping desperately her face didn’t betray the hurt she felt at him lashing out. She tried telling herself at least a dozen times since finding him again that he had every right to be upset, but until that moment he hadn’t shown any real inklings of such emotions. “Don’t be. I know you’re not, and I know that you can. But you shouldn’t have to. Why don’t you finish that sandwich and I can walk you back to your room. I need to leave for a while to pick up some things and to let Daggoo out. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” William insisted. He stood abruptly, leaving half of his sandwich uneaten as he threw the food on his tray away. He finished the rest of his soda before tossing it in the can and gesturing in the direction of the elevators. “Wanna escort me back?”

He was a scared teenager who’d just lost his parents only to find an extra set, one of whom needed his help to live. Scully reminded herself of that fact as she turned her back to him in the elevator, blinking back tears and hurriedly pressing the button for the correct floor. She didn’t have the right to reprimand any lashing out, and even if she did, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. 

“What kind of animal is he?” William asked. He crossed his arms and leaned against the back wall of the elevator, recognizing the way she pretending to sneeze and dab at her eyes, muttering something about dust before turning to face him. “Daggoo, I mean. Is he your dog?”

Scully nodded, somewhat puzzled by him change in mood but not wanting to question it. She quickly pulled out her phone, swiping the screen a few times before turning it in his direction. “He was a bit unruly when I first got him, but having a big yard to run around in has settled his energy some.”

William nodded, not breaking his eyes away from the picture. “My mom was allergic, so my dad never let us get a dog growing up. I always had to be careful coming home from a friend’s house. One of them had a dog that would shed so bad, I couldn’t even go back inside before rubbing one of those lint rollers all over my clothes,” he said, laughing as he scrolled to another picture that showed Mulder throwing Daggoo a ball. “He looks nice.”

Scully smiled when he handed her the phone back. “He is,” she said as the elevator doors opened. “Maybe when the doctor clears you, you can come back to the house to meet him.”

After Scully settled him back in his room, William found himself restless. He knew he was supposed to follow orders and get rest, but also his curiosity piqued upon thinking of the man just a few doors down. He’d formerly met him the day before, when Scully had wheeled him into his room, only to be carted out a few minutes later after Mulder started a coughing fit. She muttered something about his immune system before saying they’d have to try again some other time. After that, she’d insisted he get some sleep. He pretended to until she left. 

Unable to ignore the curiosity that pricked his mind, William slipped a robe the hospital had provided around his shoulders, grabbed a sketch pad he’d brought from home, and headed down the hallway. The knock on the door was more tentative than he meant for it to be and he crossed his arms, waiting for Mulder to notice him. “Hi.”

Mulder, who had been half asleep watching news coverage on the virus, jumped at the sound of his voice. He ran a hand over his face before brushing it through his hair and sitting up a bit straighter in the bed. A part of him had thought seeing William the day before had been a dream, but seeing him standing in the doorway was proof enough it had been real. “Hi. Would you like to come in?”

William walked a few steps into the room, pointing at a chair by the bed and watching as Mulder nodded before sitting down. He clutched his sketchpad tightly in his lap with one hand and drumming a staccato beat on the cover with his other. His eyes roved over the man lying in the hospital bed, watching for any signs of distress. “How...how are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better, but I have also been much worse. How are you, Will?” Mulder asked. He blinked a couple of times, still not used to the sight of the boy he’d last known as a tiny infant small enough to fit in the crook of his arm sitting before him.

William shrugged, the robe falling a bit, so he adjusted it more tightly before speaking. “Okay.”

Mulder shook his head, chuckling to himself. He wanted to say something about how much he was like Scully, insisting she was fine when she couldn’t possibly be, but he thought better of it. She’d only given him a cursory summary of what had happened in the hours since he was last lucid, hesitating for a long moment before telling him she’d found their son. It had taken every last ounce of patience he had not to immediately bolt out of the room in search of him once he knew William was in the same hospital as he was. But now that he was a few feet away, close enough to touch, he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Where’s Scully?”

“She said she had to go home and let the dog out. Pick up a couple things,” William replied, nodding to himself. “I guess I’m kind of breaking the rules by being in here. Sorry.”

The look on William’s face was one of fear, but there was almost a pleading tone to his voice, like he was afraid to ask to stay, and he wanted Mulder’s permission. “It’s okay. Sometimes, rules are made to be broken,” Mulder replied. He smoothed his hands over the blanket, unsure of what to say next. “Scully told me about what happened. I’m sorry,” he said, waiting for a reaction from the younger man, who simply took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t yet ready to talk, and maybe he never would be, but the last thing Mulder wanted was to push him or making him uncomfortable, so he grabbed the remote from where it sat on the bed and pushed it in his direction. “You can change the station if you want. Maybe there’s a movie on you’d like.”

William settled into the chair more comfortably, tucking his legs underneath his body and nestling into the seat back. He focused his gaze on the screen, where a newscaster was talking about how ridiculous the notion was that the virus that had quite literally swept across the globe could possibly have had any political motives, and he laughed. “This is fine. I like hearing theories as to what possibly could’ve caused all of this. Dana explained a little of it earlier to me, but it’s interesting hearing the public’s interpretation.”

Mulder stared at his profile in awe, making a mental note to ask Scully just what she’d told him, not knowing exactly what she deemed appropriate given their situation. He reached his hand behind him, fluffing the pillow a little before lying back down. “Yeah,” he said, focusing more on William than the screen. “It definitely is.”

They spent the better part of an hour like that, taking turns staring at the screen and looking at the other, only to look the other way as soon as they were caught staring. William wouldn’t admit it, but he was looking for traces of himself in his face, but he wasn’t sure what to do with the fact he saw them. One of them would make a side comment about the news coverage and the other would reply, but they skirted around anything more serious. They both turned their focus to the door at the sound of it opening. 

“There you are,” Scully said, unable to mask the relief in her voice. “You weren’t resting in your room, so I wasn’t quite sure where you’d be. The nurse wasn’t aware of anything further testing. Are you alright?”

“He’s fine, Scully,” Mulder replied. He glanced over at William, wanting to reassure him. “We were just watching the news coverage. How’s Daggoo?”

“A pillow might have been destroyed while he was cooped up, but otherwise all is well,” she replied, carding a hand through Mulder’s hair. “You’ve got some color back in your cheeks. That’s good.”

Mulder watched her gaze flicker from William back to him. She was full of pent up nervous energy, and it occurred to him it was the first time in a long time the three of them were in well enough spirits while in the same room, so it was no wonder she wasn’t quite sure what to do. He considered briefly making a joke about there being a guide book for these situations, but thought it unwise. He picked up the remote, eager to lighten the mood. “You know, we’ve heard enough interpretations of what’s going on outside. I’m sure there has to be something better better on TV,” he said, waggling the remote in William’s direction. The idea of watching a movie on a lazy afternoon with his son was something he’d dreamt about before, just recently even, but it was never like this. “You can pick.”

William shrugged, drumming his fingers against the cover of his sketchbook. “Whatever you wanna watch is fine. It’s your room.”

“Come on, Will, there’s gotta be something you want to watch. What are you into--superheroes, monsters, maybe a little old hollywood?” Mulder asks, genuinely wanting to know the answer. He could tell by the look on Scully’s face that she was interested, too. These are the things they’re supposed to know about their child, but he was frustrated at having to hazard a guess. He flipped through the channels a few times before seeing William perk up beside him. “I didn’t realize this movie was out of theaters already,” he said, setting the remote back in the holder on the bed. He turned toward William and nodded. “Good choice.”

“Mulder, this movie came out like two years ago. Of course it’s not in theaters anymore,” Scully said. The laugh coming from William’s direction came as a bit of a surprise, but her heart swelled at the sound. She’d made that happen, she thought, and she’d give anything to make it keep happening. She elbowed Mulder in the arm, catching the hint of clear amusement on his face before he regained composure. “Old man.”

They settled like that; William in the chair, Mulder in the bed and Scully perched at his side, watching the movie. All three were happy for the distraction, but soon whether by excitement or by the fact he was still working to recover, William curled up and fell asleep. Mulder had turned to make a comment to him about something happening on screen when he saw it. “Scully,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. He cocked his head in William’s direction and smiled. “I guess we’re not very good company.”

Scully squeezed his hand in return and sighed. She noticed for the first time the freckles that dusted across his cheeks, subtle, but somehow obvious in the artificial hospital lighting. “It’s the most peaceful he’s looked since I found him.”

Mulder studied her as she watched William sleep, noting the circles that settled in under her eyes. She’d told him somewhat about the trip to Wyoming, about hurrying to find William in enough time to save him, but he only just now began to consider how much she’d truly gone though. He brushed his free hand under her chin, urging her to look at him. “When’s the last time you got some sleep?”

She shrugged the question off, fighting the urge to yawn because she knew it would serve his point. “I dozed off for a bit earlier when I went home to let Daggoo out . Mulder, I’m--”

“Don’t let the next word out of your mouth be “fine”, Scully,” Mulder replied. He waited a moment to see if she’d protest before patting his hand against his chest. “C’mere.”

She gestured to the wires still connected to him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she insisted, but she knew it was no use, and truthfully, she was growing too tired to put up a fight. She settled against his chest, mindful of the wires. The rhythm of his heartbeat was something that had soothed her before, and this time was no different. “If he wakes up--”

“I know,” Mulder replied, not needed her to finish her sentence. He couldn’t help marveling at the strange turn of events. A few months before, it was enough to ask of her to even be in the same room with him. With the return of their work, they’d both come alive again, stronger than they had been before. The return of William to their lives was an unexpected one, and even though he knew how much she wanted it, the excitement of the last few days had left her more exhausted than she’d care to admit. He kissed the top of her head, feeling better once she relaxed into him. He ran a hand down her back and hoped that the calm would last. “Just let me keep watch for a while.”


	3. Chapter 3

The ceiling fan sputtered a few times before coming to life as Scully flipped the switch and opened the room. “I know it’s not much, but the bed should be comfy enough, and it’s got a big window.”

William offered a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement as he rolled a suitcase into the room. “You guys weren’t kidding when you said the house was way out here.”

She smiled and leaned against the doorframe. “It’s actually kind of nice most of the time. Quiet. But we can head into the city tomorrow if you’d like and pick up some things. Maybe new bedding if you want, among other things.”

He shuffled to the bed, dropping the duffle bag he’d been carrying over his shoulder to the floor with a dull thud. The mattress sunk a little under his weight and he patted the surface, as if he were sizing it up. “I brought some books,” he said, fighting a yawn. The sky outside was still bleeding orange and red around the edges, there was no way he was supposed to be tired already, he thought. 

“I know, but even as much as I like to read sometimes, books aren’t always enough. I saw at the hospital that you had your drawing notebook. There’s an art supply store we could go to in the morning if you’d like?” Scully asked, hating the uncertainty laced in her voice. The entire ride home she’d been unsure of how he’d react once there. 

William rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and rifled a hand through his hair with the other. He knew she was trying, that much he should give her credit for, and the idea of new pencils and drawing tools was inviting. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“I’ll let Mulder know. Depending on how he feels, it might be just you and me. Would you be okay with that?” Scully asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer. The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable, and while they’d been getting along well enough, for whatever reason, she’d noticed when they were alone things seemed more difficult. She chalked it up to her being the one to find him, doubled with the one who told him everything, or at least the part of “everything” she deemed appropriate at the time. So much had changed for him in such short period, she just hoped he’d be okay. That they all would be, for that matter.

“Sure, yeah. Fine by me,” he replied, his words clipped but genuine just the same. “Is it okay if I take a shower? I don’t know that I’m tired yet, but--”

“Of course,” she said, springing to life in the doorway. It was the first request he’d made, and it was a reasonable one to boot, so of course she wanted to oblige. “The bathroom is right across the hall. Sometimes you have to jiggle the hot water handle a little, but it’s fine. And the towels are in the closet right next door,” she continued, trying not to find it strange to be telling her son where everything in the house was. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” 

The mall bustled with activity the next morning as they walked in. While the virus had killed or seriously injured many, it wasn't enough to ward off crowds. Scully wrapped her coat tighter around her waist and took a deep breath. “Where would you like to begin? The art store is around the corner to the right, we could go there first?”

Sensing her hesitation, William stepped closer to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Look, we don't have to do this,” he said, licking his lips as he appraised the crowds. It was the most people either of them had been around in days. 

It struck her as he stood so close how tall William was, and she tried hard to focus on that rather than the fact it was the first time he’d touched her unprovoked. “No, I promised you new art supplies, so it's the least I could do. Maybe a new jacket that's a bit closer to your size?” 

William pulled his arm away and shook his head before walking ahead of her. 

Scully stood still for a second before hurrying to catch up to him, having to take double the amount of steps as he did before they again fell back in stride. “Will, if I said something to upset you--”

“--it's fine. Really,” William interrupted. He slowed his pace as they rounded the corner and pointed at the correct store. “Do you wanna go in?”

For a few minutes, the tension that had existed in the hall fell away. Scully watched as William wandered the aisles until finding the one he wanted and ran his hand across brightly colored boxes of pencils. He studied a particular charcoal set and removed it from the shelf, turning the box over to read the back. He set it back on the shelf and did the same thing to a set next to them. She wished he knew how much he looked like Mulder, so intently focused on something he was interested in. “Do you see anything you like?”

William waved the pencils in her direction. “These ones are good.”

“Then we’ll get them,” she replied with a nod. “What about these? Do you use color at all?” she asked as she pulled another set from the shelf. “It says they have “accurate” shades. I don’t know what that means, but--”

“--those are too expensive, it’s okay. We can just get these,” he said, offering the case he held out to her while holding his hand out for the others. 

“Will, it’s okay. We can get them both, if it’s what you want. Do you like them?” she asked. A voice in her head chimed that she should know what kind of things her son was interested in without having to ask in the aisle of an art supply store as other people passed by. He was avoiding her eyes, and had it not been for his clipped speech and behavior all morning, she’d have just chalked it up to him honestly thinking the supplies were too expensive. She had her suspicions, so she decided to test the waters. She grabbed the pencils he offered but kept the other pack in her hand. “We can get these, and then we can head across the way to look at jackets for you. I know spring may be around the corner, but that one doesn’t fit correctly, and you need one that doesn’t look like it’ll fall off at any moment.”

“No, I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to keep buying things for me, okay? I don’t know that I’m done growing anyhow, I’ll grow into it,” he muttered, messing with the buttons and hoping she didn’t see that one was missing. He straightened his posture and buried his hands in his pockets, not challenging her necessarily, but not wanting to back down from this particular issue. 

“There are already holes in it, Will, but fine. If you won’t let me buy you a new one, I’m sure Mulder has an older one you can use. Come on, let’s buy these, and then I need to head over to the pet store. Daggoo managed to slip out of his collar and lose it. I’ve searched the yard, but I can’t seem to find it,” she replied, deciding to rest the issue for the time being. He was clearly struggling and she wanted more than anything to help him, but how was she supposed to do that if he wouldn’t let her? 

“Could we--” William began, clearing his throat as they walked to the register. “Could we maybe get him some more tennis balls? Or maybe something else to play with? He seems to chew through them pretty quick.”

The subject of the dog seemed to make him more comfortable, and she felt she could have purchased everything in the pet store if it meant he’d keep talking. She set the pencils on the counter for the cashier to ring up and smiled. “Sure. That would be a great idea.”

Later that night, Scully was straightening the blankets on the bed when Mulder walked into the room, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her to his chest. He settled his chin on her shoulder, her hair tickling his cheek as he breathed in the scent of the citrus shampoo she used, feeling thankful that some things never changed. “I was asleep when the two of you got back, and then he seemed to busy himself with the dog for most of the afternoon. Am I to take it as a sign that today went well?”

Scully tossed the pillow she’d been fluffing onto the bed and rested her hands on his arms where they rested at her waist. She leaned into him, debating how to respond. “I just wish he’d talk to me, or to you. I know he has things he wants to say, and I don’t want to push him on it, but what are we supposed to do?”

He kissed an exposed patch of skin where the T-shirt he’d yet to call her out on stealing slipped down her shoulder. “You have to give him time, Scully. Test the waters a bit, but trust that in time, he’ll open up to us if he’s ready. If it’s meant to happen, it will. We have to also open ourselves up to the possibility it may not happen, or at least as quickly as you or I might wish for it to.”

She traced lines across his arm, content for a moment to stand in one place. After all of the running around the preceding days had required, a moment of peace felt rare but also wonderful. She turned her head, angling it so her lips brushed the side of his mouth as she spoke. “I know you’re getting tired of me asking you this, but how are you feeling?”

He tightened his arms around her and felt a surge of warmth at the contented sigh that came from her. “I thought for a while there I might not make it, not after what cancer man and the rest of them have willingly been putting all of us through,” he said, dipping his head to kiss a spot just below her ear. “But because of you, and because of William, I am doing much better. I know what pressure all of this has placed upon you, Scully. I won’t ask how you’re feeling, because--” Mulder stopped, tightening his hold on her at the sound of a thud coming from the hall. “What was that?”

Scully listened for a few seconds, not waiting for him as she heard another sound, this time a voice. She bolted into the hall, following the noise until she reached the closed door of William’s room just as she heard a thud from the other side. The common courtesy of knocking was dismissed as she opened the door slightly, only to see him twisting from one side to the other on the bed. She turned to Mulder who had reached her side. “We have to wake him up.”

Mulder peered into the room, watching as William stayed still for a few seconds only to start kicking and pushing at the air surrounding him again. He returned his gaze to Scully, not at all surprised at the worry evident in her eyes, and knew it wouldn’t be an early night. “It will be easier if he wakes up and there’s only one of us. Go,” he said, pressing a hand to the small of her back to urge her into the room. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“Stop,” William cried, kicking his legs and finally succeeding in pushing the blanket to the floor. “No, stop!”

Scully hesitated at his bedside, recalling times during his infancy when something had frightened or unsettled him late at night. She reached a hand out, carefully brushing the hair from his face. “Will, you need to wake up.”

He stilled at her touch, but the fluttering behind his eyelids suggested he was still asleep. “Please,” he cried, shaking his head against the pillow.

“William,” she said, sitting gently on the bed. She placed a hand on either of his shoulders, trying to ignore the panic bubbling in her chest as she shook him gently, not wanting to startle him but also needing him to wake up. “Will, honey, please wake up. It’s just a dream, you’re okay. You’re safe here. No one is hurting you,” she shook her head, words of reassurance spilling out quicker and quicker until he opened his eyes. 

He gasped as his eyes shot open, his hand scrambling for purchase at the sound of her voice. “Mom?” he called, gripping her arm tightly as he struggled to get his breathing under control. He blinked his eyes, fighting to focus on her in the inky darkness of the room. 

“You’re okay,” she said, rifling a hand through his hair and fighting back the tears that began to pool in her eyes. She wiped the back of her hand at them before turning on the bedside lamp. Her eyes scanned him to quickly verify that he wasn’t physically in any sort of pain. “You were having a nightmare. You’re safe now,” she said, fingers ghosting across his wrist, unsurprised at the fluttering beat she felt there. “Take a deep breath for me.”

William did as he was told, breathing in deep through his nose and out through his mouth, mimicking her movements. Slowly, he could feel his heartbeat return to normal. “I’m sorry for waking you up. It was just a dumb dream. Like you said, I’m safe, right?”

She hung her head, realizing he was clearly embarrassed at the outburst. She remembered Mulder’s words from a few minutes before, knowing she needed to give him time to open up regarding the things that had happened. “You are safe, yes. But that doesn’t mean you don’t still feel and remember the things that happened to you. It’s okay to feel scared, Will. But you’re safe here, it’s okay.”

He fixed his gaze at a tear in the wall paper. “I’m okay and safe and they’re not. They got sick and I didn’t. How is that fair?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, her watery blue eyes matching his own. She wasn’t going to push the issue, but wanted to make it clear she was interested if he wanted to tell her anything. “We could go downstairs and I could make you some tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?”

William considered it for a moment before he burrowed his head further into the pillow. The silence was heavy around them, and he wanted the security and warmth the comforter provided, but didn’t want to ask her to pick it up from where it had fallen on the floor. His eyes settled on the jacket he’d been wearing earlier, draped over the back of a chair near the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. About the jacket, I mean.”

“Don’t be. My mother passed away recently, and I still wear a necklace she gave me all of the time,” she replied, pulling the quarter necklace from where it rested underneath her shirt. “I still haven’t figured out what this coin meant to her, but when I’m wearing it, it makes me feel closer to her. Sometimes wearing or using something from someone we care about very much helps us to remember them even after they’re gone.”

“How did you know?” William asked, unable to mask the surprise in his voice. 

Scully tapped her temple and smiled. “I’m an FBI Agent, remember? It’s my job to pick up on these things.”

William laughed, feeling better than he had upon first waking up. 

“Are you sure you don’t want the hot chocolate? I even have those miniature marshmallows if you want,” she said. 

“Thanks, but I’m actually pretty tired,” William replied, sitting up to pull the blanket from the floor himself. “I think I’m just going to try to get back to sleep if that’s okay.”

Scully stood up quickly, helping him by bundling up the blanket and placing it on the bed. “Sure,” she replied, trying to not feel disappointed. “Good night then. Do you want the light out?”

“I’ll get it,” he said, watching as she headed for the door. He fiddled with a tag on the blanket’s edge, frayed and with print so worn he wasn’t sure people could read the washing directions even if they wanted to. “Hey,” he called, clearing his throat to catch her attention.

Scully’s hand gripped the door handle as she turned to face him. “Did you need anything?”

He held the tag with one hand and rubbed it with his thumb. “Maybe we could have the hot chocolate tomorrow?”

It wasn’t much, Scully thought, but at the least it was progress. “You can count on it.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so incredibly much to those of you who have read, liked, and reviewed this story. It means a lot to me. i hope to write more in this universe at some point, because I love these characters so much, but this chapter will be the last for this particular story. What starts as an idea blossoms into more, and I'm glad to see that take place here. Thanks again!

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? We don’t have to go if you won’t feel comfortable,” Scully said. She rested her hand on the open screen door, eyeing William who knelt to scratch Dagoo behind the ears with uncertainty.

“It’s okay, we’ll be fine,” William replied, ruffling Dagoo’s fur, who promptly turned in a circle before standing up on his hind legs to reach up and lick the boy’s face in response. William laughed, and his smile was genuine when he looked back up at her. “Me and the furball will hold down the fort. Besides, you said you guys would only be gone a few hours, right?”

  
Scully nodded before taking a deep breath. “Right, that’s correct. We’ll only be a phone call away. I left a list of all the numbers on the fridge in case you need them, and I stocked up the fridge in case you get hungry.”

William stood up and walked towards her. They’d spent nearly a week cooped up in the house, save for an odd trip here and there to the store. But with Mulder recuperated and society as a whole getting back in gear, he knew that the two adults going to work for a few hours might not be a bad idea. It’d even give him a few moments of peace, he thought, if the dog who had taken such a shine to him would stop being his shadow. “You said this meeting was important, yeah? So, you gotta go.”

“I know, I do,” Scully replied, clearing her throat as she turned towards Mulder, who’d been patiently waiting at the foot of the steps. “We do. Are you ready?”

Mulder was just as curious as she was as to just what the meeting with Skinner was about, and was also just as reluctant to leave William by himself. But as he peered up onto the porch at William, who braced the doorway with both hands, he knew some solitude might be just what the boy needed. “As I’ll ever be,” he replied. He walked around the SUV and held the door open for Scully. “Call us if you need anything.”

Scully started the car, waiting until Mulder got inside before putting it into drive. On the radio, a DJ talked about schools and businesses reopening, and she couldn’t help but laugh. A contagion had decimated a large percentage of the population, but the guy was reporting it as if it was just a natural disaster. She pulled out of their driveway and onto the main road, taking a second to gaze in the mirror at the house. William had already gone back inside, and for a second she considered turning back around to make sure he really was as okay as he’d claimed.

Mulder reached across the console, resting his hand on her leg. His thumb rubbed against her inner thigh and he gave it a squeeze. “We’ll be home by midday, Scully. The kid could probably use a little time by himself. It’ll be okay.”

“I know,” she replied. She let out a rattled breath before picking up his hand with one of her own, lacing their fingers together and pressing a kiss against it. She settled their hands back onto her leg, risking a glance at him as she drove. “You don’t seem as excited to go back at I thought you would be.”

“It’s not everyday that a guy battles a deadly contagion meant to destroy mankind, only to be saved by DNA from the son he hasn’t seen in years and who looks strikingly similar to the image he’s created in his head now, is it?” Mulder asked, relieved at hearing her laugh. He watched her for a moment, so focused on the road despite the way her thumb was tracing lines against his hand. “It just seems strange to me to be returning to work as normal after all of this, that’s all.”

Scully checked her mirrors and changed lanes, pulling into traffic with ease. “I know the feeling. But the least we can do is see what Skinner wants, and take it from there. And, hey, maybe we could all go out to eat tonight,” she said, pausing at the sight of the clouds looming above. “But I suppose that hinges upon what the weather’s like.”

Mulder agreed, and they settled into conversation about the day that was ahead. As strange as it seemed to be headed back to work after everything that had happened, he hoped returning a sense of normalcy to their lives would be a good thing.

At the house, silence didn’t bother William as much as they feared it might. He ate a bowl of cereal for breakfast while flipping through the channels on TV. It occurred to him that they hadn’t said anything to him about eating in the living room, but he wasn’t sure if it meant he was allowed or if there was no need to discuss such rules. They’d talked some about his life growing up, and even a little more about the past surrounding the time period Scully gave him up, but the future still seemed blurry and out of focus. Had they not gone into rules because they weren’t ready for that step, or had they not approached the subject because he wouldn’t be around long enough for them to become necessary?

He tried distracting himself from his thoughts by turning the tv up, and even tossing a ball to Dagoo a couple of times, but when the dog came close to knocking over a lamp, he stopped. He didn’t want having to explain how he’d been at fault for breaking something to be at the top of his list of things to do when they got home. The remnants of his cereal were soggy, so he took his bowl into the kitchen and cleaned up, taking care to wipe off the counters and straighten things on the table when he was done with the dishes. They hadn’t told him to do any chores, but something about decluttering the kitchen and seeing things more organized made him feel more useful.

Next, he grabbed his laundry and headed into the basement to toss them into the washer. Whether he’d be sticking around or packing everything up before too long, he wanted something to show for the time he’d spent alone. He flipped the switch and headed down the stairs, with Dagoo tagging along near his feet. There were boxes with Christmas lights and garland peeking out of the top on one side, and a shelf stocked full of things like batteries, tools, and duct tape--things needed but best kept out of the way--on the other. Dagoo sniffed at a spot between his feet and he gently nudged him, lowering the basket of clothes so he could scowl at him. “We’ll go outside as soon as I’m done in here,” he said, again nudging the dog, who responded by circling him a few times and again sniffing at his feet. “I know, furball, but I can’t, not until--”

In his plight to get around the mass of energetic dog, he’d elbowed a stack of boxes, causing one to tip over and fall onto the floor. “Seriously?” he cried, this time more forcefully pushing Dagoo to the side and hurriedly placing his clothes in the washer. After studying the buttons for a few moments, he put in the soap and turned the machine on, and then turned back to Dagoo, who seemed to only slightly regret his mistake. “We can go out now, but first I have to clean up the mess you helped me make. Thanks.”

He started picking up items and tossing them into the box, a few books and journals, personal items he didn’t pay much attention to. The writing on the side of the box told him everything was from “mom’s house”. He recalled the conversation he’d had with Scully a couple days before, and that coupled with the fact he saw several other boxes marked the same way, he assumed the “mom” was hers. He piled more of the books into the box, feeling somewhat guilty for even touching the things that used to belong to a woman--his grandmother, his brain pinged-he’d never known. His hand landed on a photo album however, and curiosity got the best of him, but not before he hastily checked the still open door at the top of the stairs, despite already knowing they wouldn’t be there. Most of the pictures were old and clearly dated; children gathered around a Christmas tree, a brown-haired man who bore a resemblance to Scully in a graduation cap, and even one of a bespectacled Scully sitting behind the wheel of a car with the words “Dana’s first solo drive” written in block letters on cardstock underneath. He laughed at that one before hurriedly putting it into the box with everything else, feeling like an intruder in a history that partially belonged to him. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to thinking about that.

There were a few other items on the floor, mostly other photo albums, but he honed in on a smaller one and hurriedly picked it up, hand trembling with curiosity as he debated opening the cover.It was blue and decorated with tiny rattles, a photo album clearly meant for baby pictures, but as he weighed the book in his hands, he realized it didn’t feel very heavy. Dagoo had stilled beside him, settling his head on his lap, and there were no sounds from upstairs, so he decided to go ahead and open the album. The first few images were things one might have expected; an ultrasound picture, a bemused looking Dana holding her shirt up and showing the slightest hint of a bump, and another a few pages later displaying a similar pose from the side with a much larger stomach. There was something in her eyes he couldn’t place, a smile on her lips, but it didn’t seem to reach her eyes.

He flipped through more pages, noting one of a sleeping Mulder cradling a blue-wrapped bundle to his chest, and thinking not for the first time that these pictures were the reason there were no similar ones at the house back in Wyoming. There were framed photos on the wall, collecting dust, and probably albums containing school photos, but this was the first time he’d seen any photographs of the time period that until recently he’d only thought of as Before. He’d been told he was adopted at an early age, but even as they’d told him, he already knew. It didn’t make the gift they’d given him any less valid, but he’d always grown up sensing that something was different.

He traced over the pointed hat in a picture, feeling an odd sense of familiarity. While he’d have to compare the two pictures to be certain, there was a picture of him wearing a similar hat that he’d seen before. Had they really allowed him to keep some of the clothes Scully had given him before giving him up? William flipped a few more pages before shutting the album and setting the box back onto the stack. The house felt smaller and even quieter than it had before, if such a thing were possible. “Come on, mutt. Let’s go for that walk.”

As soon as Scully turned into the driveway, a large bolt of lightning cracked the sky into pieces above them. They’d gone to the meeting with Skinner, and then down to the office to pick up a couple of things, and before they knew it, several hours had passed. The rain had already started as they began driving home, and as they hurriedly ran up the front steps, it didn’t seem to be letting up much. Scully shivered as she hung her jacket near the door, droplets of water puddling near the foot of the stand. She watched as Mulder mirrored her actions, finding comfort in how their shoes sat side by side and their keys were in the bowl. “Considering the downpour we fought through to get here, I’m not sure dinner out will be an option.”

Mulder walked behind her, massaging the taut muscles of her shoulders, watching as water trickled from her hair down the nape of her neck. He kissed one of the beads of water away and sighed. “We’ll think of something.,” he said as the lights flickered. “You think Will’s ever experienced dinner by candlelight, because if that was any indication, that may be the way this evening is headed.”

She froze at the mention of their son, eyes quickly darting toward the empty living room. Mulder began to speak again and she shushed him, honing her ears to any sounds that might suggest where William was. “Will, honey, we’re home.”

Mulder’s heart warmed at the term of endearment, not surprised at how easily it seemed to come for her. They’d been without him for years, but for her, William had never been far from her mind. He gave her shoulder another squeeze before stepping past her and pointing up the stairs. “Maybe he’s in his room. I’ll take a look.”

Scully watched him jog up the stairs before heading into the kitchen, finding it empty as well. She listened for any music humming through walls, or even the quiet patter of Dagoo’s feet, but came up empty. She clutched the quarter pendant between her fingertips and spun around at the sound of Mulder entering the room.

“He’s not up there,” Mulder replied, hoping the worry in his voice wasn’t too evident. He crossed to the door leading to the basement and opened it, flicking on the light and quickly scanning the room.

“It’s pouring out, Mulder, what are we supposed to do? I don’t see a note, do you think he went for a walk?” Scully asked, stepping back when Mulder stepped forward to comfort her. As much as she may have wanted to be held by him, wondering where William was remained more important. “He couldn’t have gone very far in the storm. Unless--”

“Scully, no,” Mulder interjected, reading exactly where her mind was headed. “Dagoo seems to be missing too, so I’m sure he took him for a walk and got caught up in the storm. I’ll go grab an umbrella and go searching for him, and you can hang out here in case they get back before I do.”

The idea that she’d just got him back only to lose him again so soon was not an easy thought to ignore, but she suppressed it at the thought of Mulder going out into the storm. “Mulder, you’ve just barely recovered from a serious illness that nearly killed you. Going out into the rain could further jeopardize your immune system. You can stay here, and I’ll go looking for them.”

Mulder knew better than to argue with her when she was so determined. He tucked a damp tendril of hair behind her ear, rubbing the shell with his thumb before letting his arm fall back to his side. “Okay, but be careful. It doesn’t seem to be letting up yet. You don’t want me further jeopardizing my oh so fragile immune system going in search of all three of you, now do you?”

Scully smiled, knowing he meant well, but his attempt at cheering her up wasn’t helping much. She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped, breath hitching in her chest at the sound of a dog bark echoing through the quiet house. She bolted past Mulder towards the sound, drinking in the sight of a sopping wet William and an even further drenched Dagoo standing in the doorway.

“You guys okay?” Mulder asked, walking up beside Scully, watching as a puddle began collecting at their feet.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...c’mon, mutt, stop--” William cried out in frustration as Dagoo shook and caused a bigger mess next to him. “I wanted to go for a run, and I figured he could probably use the chance to exercise, so we went out. It didn’t start raining ‘till we were already out there a while. It just sprinkled at first, so I was fine. But when it got heavier, I just thought it was better to hide out at that barn...which, by the way, could really stand a few less holes in the roof--” He paused for a second, wiping away the water on his face. He may have been confused and full of pent up emotions upon leaving the house a few hours before, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get everything straightened out, but as he stared back at Scully he couldn’t help but think of the picture he’d seen in the album of her cradling him as a baby, with so much love written in her features it had almost hurt to look at it. “I realized though that I didn’t leave a note, so I didn’t wanna worry you, and I decided to hurry back.”

Scully nodded at Mulder murmuring something about fetching towels, and stepped closer to William. Her eyes honed in on a smudge on his forehead hidden by his hair. Before she could stop herself, she reached forward and pushed his hair away, rubbing at the mark with her fingers. “You fell in the mud?”

William pointed at his muddy shoes. “My feet found a root of a tree quicker than I could avoid it,” he replied. Mulder came back with several oversized towels, and he took one to dry himself off, watching as the older man knelt to rub the dog clean. He could feel Scully’s eyes on him, scanning his profile for any other signs of injury. “It really is just mud. See?”

Scully watched him rub at his forehead, and her formerly white towel came away a dull brown. She remained apprehensive, curious as to what might have made him go out before an afternoon storm, but decided not to question him on it. If they were going to work on building their relationship, she had to trust that he would come to her when the moment was right. “I’m going to see what I can scare up for dinner. Why don’t you go upstairs and change? I don’t want you catching a cold in wet clothes.”

William did as he was told, trading the wet clothes he had on for an old T-shirt and sweatpants, knowing the majority of his clothes were in the dryer down in the basement. He knew he’d have to go back down there eventually, but he wasn’t sure he could do so without curiosity getting the better of him and wanting poke through some more of the boxes. He couldn’t help but wonder what other evidence of the life he’d lead before might lie inside of them. He wasn’t sure however of just what he’d do upon finding anything. The house was quiet as he went to the kitchen, watching as Scully scrubbed at potatoes in the sink while Mulder stood at her side, eating something from the palm of his hand. He had a enough of an outline of the past to know that there had been people that wanted to hurt them, some of which were still alive. Despite Scully insisting they’d taken precautions to keep him safe, he knew what coming home to find to house empty had done to them. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” Mulder replied, knowing his apology was sincere. “Maybe leave a note next time. There’s not a lot out here, but you can be out there a while. And hey, maybe the next time you go for a run, I could join you? Provided Doc here gives me the all clear.”

William watched him nudge Scully’s hip with his own, only to see her playfully return the gesture. Just for a second, they were caught up in their own world, and he expected to feel like an outsider, but was a little surprised when he didn’t feel that way. “Sure. If you think you can keep up.”

“Oh, I think I can--” Mulder’s reply was interrupted by a clap of thunder before the lights flickered again and shut off entirely. A patch of what daylight remained leaked in through the window, but they were otherwise bathed in darkness. He heard the tapping of Dagoo’s paws on the kitchen tile, the beating of rain against the walls, and the whirring of the appliances slowly coming to a stop. “It would appear that we’ll be roughing it tonight.”

Scully fumbled through the dark kitchen, opening a drawer and pulling out a flashlight. “I just need to find the matches, and I can light a couple of the candles from the living room,” she said, attempting to turn on the flashlight to no avail. “Any chance you know where the matches are, Mulder? The batteries in this thing are dead.”

“Upstairs in the bathroom, maybe? I know that we used them when--” he stopped, becoming very aware of the teenager in the room. “That is, when you used them for the candles upstairs.”

Scully groaned at the thought of climbing upstairs in the dark. “We could just try waiting it out. The last time this happened, it only took maybe a half hour for the lights to come back on.”

“And what, Scully, we’re just supposed to be sitting here in the dark until that happens?” Mulder asked.

William had been silent as he listened to the exchange, but cleared his throat to speak, sensing an opportunity for him to help. “I saw some batteries when I was in the basement, let me go get some.”

He darted off into the basement before Scully could protest. The last thing she wanted was to be nursing him through a hurt ankle at falling down a dark set of stairs. He was back quicker than she’d expected however, and gratefully took the batteries from him. “That was fast,” she said, once she’d put the batteries in the flashlight. She turned it on and the kitchen was soon swathed in a batch of light. “Thank you.”

A quick trip up the stairs for the matches and a gathering of candles later, the three of them sat at the kitchen table, the flames casting their shadows against the walls. Mulder had dug out a deck of cards from a drawer and they were playing a game, but as he stared across the table, he had the impression that William’s mind was elsewhere. Mulder shuffled the deck, casually passing out a hand as he peered over a candle at him. “Everything okay, Will?”

William shrugged, but he already knew his denial wasn’t enough. They’d discover he’d rifled through the box eventually, so as strange of a subject as it was to discuss, he decided a direct approach was best. “I want you guys to know that I wasn’t trying to find anything, okay? In fact, if I knew what was in there, I don’t know that I would’ve wanted to look. Maybe. I don’t know,” he stuttered, tossing the cards in his hands onto the table with a frustrated sigh. Direct wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped.

Scully’s heart rate quickened, her curiosity piqued at his unexpected confession. “What was in where?”

William pressed his palms onto the table, tapping a slow beat with his fingers as he spoke. “I went into the basement to do some laundry, and Dagoo followed me. He started running around my feet, like he wanted to play, and I tripped into some boxes. Some stuff fell, and I wasn’t trying to pry I promise, but when I went to pick everything up, some of the picture albums fell open. I know I probably should have asked first, but I was picking it up anyway, so I kind of went through some of them.”

“The boxes from your mom’s house,” Mulder said, studying Scully’s face for anything reaction. She seemed outwardly fine, but could only imagine the thoughts beginning to spin around inside. He was going to wait and let her respond, but when she didn’t say anything, he turned his attention back to William and cleared his throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Will. It’s perfectly natural for you to be curious as to what might be in those pictures.”

William nodded, his tapping on the table growing quicker. “I just thought maybe you guys were gonna be mad. Think that I was spying or something.”

Scully reached out, covering one of his hands on the table with her own, stilling his movements. The urge to reassure him was stronger than she’d expected. “We’re not mad, Will, and even if we were, we’d have no right to be. I had considered showing you some of the things in those boxes, but I wanted you to be ready. I didn’t want to upset you or make you feel uncomfortable.”

William felt as if a spotlight was focused upon him, despite there being only the dull light the candles afforded. But with the three of them gathered around the table, he figured it was as good of a chance as any. He glanced over at Mulder, relieved at the small amount of comfort Scully’s hand still weighing on his afforded him. “I looked through one of the albums that had a lot of pictures of...me. From before. There were plenty of pictures of you,” he said, turning his attention to Scully for a moment before again directing his gaze at Mulder. He could almost feel the man shrink a little under his gaze. “But there were only one or two with you.”

Without permission, the image Mulder had of inhaling an infant William’s scent as he held him one last time flashed wildly in his mind. He remembered how William had protested as he pulled him away from his chest, and the way his downy hair felt when he kissed the top of his head when he placed him back into the bassinet. He recalled the way he’d traced a finger down his cheek, drinking in his features as best he could, and he pictured vividly the way the image of the son he and Scully had miraculously created sleeping soundly would be one of the few things to help him survive in the months that followed.

Scully knew Mulder’s panic face well enough to know she needed to take the lead. “There is a lot that I haven’t told you about before. So many things I wish I could explain better, but--”

“The reason there aren’t very many pictures of me is because I wasn’t there,” Mulder said. He locked eyes with William, and he hoped with everything in him that the younger man would understand. “I know Scully has told you a little bit about the time period after you were born, and the events that necessitated your adoption. The people that were out to hurt you were also out to hurt Scully and me. By leaving the two of you behind, temporarily, I’d hoped that it would prevent any harm that might have come for the two of you.”

William pushed the soles of his feet against the cool tile floor, his mind reeling at the new information. He didn’t have to ask how well that plan had turned out.

Scully fought the lump she felt growing in her throat. “Will, is that why you ran out of the house earlier? Because of what you found in that box?”

He knew he wouldn’t get away with being out in a thunderstorm so easily, but he’d hoped to have more time. “I grew up knowing I was adopted, but I had a mom and I had a dad, and that was all that mattered. I guess looking at those pictures...it kind of made me realize that you guys are my parents, too. I mean, I thought about it. Before. But seeing it…”

“It made things more real,” Mulder replied, finishing William’s sentence when he didn’t seem to know how. He watched as William nodded, wishing not for the first time that he had the power to change the past and do things better. But since he didn’t have that ability, the best he could do is try to help with the chance he’d been given. “It’s okay if you don’t know how to feel, Will. Just take everything one day at a time, and the one day--” Mulder paused at a buzzing sound, looking up as the lights flickered back on. “Well, would you look at that. Looks like we’re back in business.”

Scully’s eyes were watery as she looked at William, hoping for any sign of reaction. “Are you okay?”

“I’m trying to be,” William replied, feeling vulnerable, but also knowing they were doing their best with the hand they’d been dealt. “Like he said, day by day.”

“Day by day,” Scully echoed, nodding her head. Her stomach growled, and she let go of his hand to rub at her abdomen through her shirt. “Or day by night, as it were. I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m hungry. Why don’t I finish making us something to eat?”

Mulder’s words about not knowing how he felt and taking everything a day at a time played in his head as he gripped the table’s edge, his gaze following Scully as she walked to the sink. “Can I help?”

Scully watched as he stood up, a wave of sadness hitting her upon seeing again how tall he was, but she fought against it. She’d never get the pudgy fingered toddler doing more harm than good as they stirred a bowl of ingredients, but she could have this. “Sure, I’d love a new sous chef. The last one I had critiqued my technique a little too much.”

“Your last one,” Mulder said, holding a hand to his chest as he only pretended to be offended. He watched in admiration as William had already taken over washing the potatoes. They would have to work for a long while at making up for lost time, but at least this was a start. “Will be in the other room.”

The sky above them was a pale blue with orange around the edges as Scully walked out onto the porch, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun and smiling at the two figures in the yard.

“A little higher this time,” Mulder said, tossing a baseball from his gloved hand to the other and back again. He mimicked holding a bat. “Put your hand a little higher there and see what happens.”

Scully watched as he tossed the ball and then directed her focus a few feet away, watching as the ball connected with the bat before flying across the yard. “Great job,” she said, clapping her hands. It was the third night in a week that they’d spent the waning afternoon hours out in the yard playing ball, but as she watched Mulder jog over to where the ball flew and throw it in William’s direction, she knew it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Mulder leaned over, wiping the sweat from his brow before resting his hands on his knees. He cocked his head in the direction the ball flew. “It’s your turn to fetch it, kid,” he said, trying and failing to mask the fact he’s tiring out. It’s been nearly a month since he was sick, but he catches himself feeling weak at times. He turned to Scully and beckoned her over. “Get over here, Scully.”

Unbidden, her memory conjured up the sight of Mulder in a baseball jersey, urging her to do the exact same thing. She’d come so close to giving into him completely that night, and recalling how she’d felt cocooned in his arms as they rocketed ball after ball into the outfield, she couldn’t help wondering how different their lives might have been, if at all. If anything, she thinks as she watches William jogging back towards them with the ball, it might have given them a little more time. “Hand me the bat, Mulder. If I’m going to be out here, I’d like a turn.”

“Why do you guys do that?” William asked, tossing the ball to Mulder. “You guys never thought calling each other by your last names was weird?”

“It’s a remnant from our days as agents. It started what feels like a million years ago, although she’d tell me that number isn’t scientifically accurate, but anyway, I guess it just sort of stuck. Ready?” Mulder asked. He rotated his arms a few times, stretching his shoulders, and finding the way she fixed her face into a look of concentration adorable. Had it not been for William standing right next to her, he’d probably have told her as much. He watched as William fiddled with his shoe for a second, eyes cast down as he wandered over to sit on the porch steps. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

“Oh, will you?” Scully asked, raising an eyebrow. The bat connected with the ball, hard, and it arced high through the air before landing in the grass far beyond the house. She glanced over at William who was still busying himself over his shoes on the step before looking back at Mulder. “I can’t walk that far in the dirt in these shoes.”

Mulder walked backwards a few feet, silently cocking his head in William’s direction as he pointed a finger at her. “Okay, this is your free pass. Gone are the days you’d run through alleys in heels, I see.”

Scully waited for a moment before tentatively making her way to the steps. She waited for a few moments to see if William would object before sitting next to him. “I heard on the radio they plan on releasing shoes that lace themselves. Do you think a pair of those might be easier for you?”

William laughed, retying his shoelace and setting his foot against the step. He settled his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his open palms. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Scully was grateful for the way Mulder seemed to be taking his time, throwing the ball up in the air and perhaps intentionally (or not) letting it fall to the ground a couple of times as he made he way back over to them. “You’ve seemed pretty quiet today. Is everything okay?” she asked. She watched as he picked a weed and started prying the seeds from the stem with his thumbnail. Since the night of the storm, they’d both opened up more, with her telling him a little more regarding the past, and with him filling in more of the blank spaces over the years. There were proverbial wounds she was sure hadn’t yet been covered, but they were making progress.

“I’m fine,” William replied, tossing the weed to the ground before plucking another and repeating the same action. He did it two more times before he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“Will, you know that it’s okay to tell me if you’re not,” Scully replied. It surprised her sometimes how stern she could sound despite feeling as if she were shaking inside.

“They said on the news this morning that roughly ninety-five percent of businesses and schools that remain operational after the attack are back in business. You guys had that meeting a couple of weeks ago, and then another last week, and it just kinda seems like maybe the pieces are all falling back together. Like life is getting back into order,” he said. He tossed the weed he was holding onto the pile made by the others. He saw Mulder throwing the ball at Dagoo out in the field before not to subtly looking in their direction, and he knew he’d volunteered to go for the ball on purpose. He drew a deep breath, knowing his next words needed to be said. “I guess I’m just kind of wondering what happens to me now.”

Panic bubbled in Scully’s chest, but she suppressed it. He may be nervous, but he was perfectly fine. “What do you mean, what happens to you?”

“Well, you guys are going to go back to work, and I’m still in school, so that’ll have to happen eventually. You can’t be saddled with some high school kid while you’re jetting across the country chasing monsters with guns and flashlights,” William replied. He’d tried pretending the moment wasn’t going to happen, he’d tried hoping one of them would approach the subject first, but since neither of those plans had worked, he decided to soldier ahead. “My adoptive parents are dead, as are half of my friends, but I know people that are foster kids. Ones that were in the system. Statistically speaking, I’ll age out of the system before anyone else chooses me. People want babies, not people old enough to reach the top shelf,” he said, the words spilling out faster than he meant for them to. He turned away for a second so she wouldn’t see him brush away the tears he felt threaten to spill down his cheeks.

Scully had been very wary of the subject of Wyoming and any plans for the future, because she didn’t want him feeling uncomfortable, but for her it wasn’t a question. “We won’t be going out of town, Will. I mean, there could potentially be conferences, and things of the sort. But I’ve decided to take up my position again at the hospital, and Mulder will begin teaching classes at Quantico soon. He’ll be working on prepping for them until then.”  
William kicked at the pile of weeds at his feet, letting his shoe leave tracks in the dirt. “Oh.”

Scully closed her eyes, darting her tongue out to moisten chapped lips, afraid of the answer to the question she knew she had to ask. “Is that what you want, Will? To go back?”

They hadn’t talked about it, and now that the lid was off the proverbial can of worms, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. The wound of losing the life he’d known was still fresh, but it was scabbing over. He just didn’t know if it would ever be completely healed. “Would it make a difference if I said I did?”

Scully had come to know him well enough to know when he was being defiant, but she had no right to chastise him for it. “Of course it would,” she insisted, this time unable to keep her fear at bay. She let out a shaky breath, suddenly wishing Mulder would quit taking his time fetching the ball, as she looked at William. “Things will be different. I know everything that’s happened has been crazy, and I’d be lying if I told you I knew exactly what to do here,” she said. She bumped his leg with hers to get him to look at her. “I won’t pressure you, Will. I won’t. We can fly back, make the proper arrangements, ensure that you were safe.”

He could hear the sound of Dagoo’s barks growing closer and knew Mulder couldn’t be that far behind. The sun was slipping below the horizon, and he knew they wouldn’t have much more time to play before it became dark. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was that made him throw his arm around her shoulders before replying, perhaps his amusement at how tall he still was to her even sitting down, but when a few moments passed and she didn’t pull away, he wasn’t sure that he wanted her to. “Or we could go back, pack up more of my things, and come back here. I don’t have a lot of my summer clothes.”

At that, Scully did manage to pull away, wanting to leave no room for confusion or doubt. She didn’t want him to make a decision born purely out of obligation or any emotions of the moment. She might have desperately wanted what he was offering, but he’d been put through enough in his life, that he deserved to get a say this time. “Only if you’re sure.”

“Sure of your evil plan to gang up on me?” Mulder asked, unable to stop Dagoo from racing over and hopping up the steps. He tossed the ball back and forth and dug his heels into the dirt. “I may be an old man, Will, but I know conspiracy when I see it,” he said, pointing at him before pointing as Scully. He was aware of the heavy mood of the conversation, and for all of their sakes, he hoped to lighten it. “Are you ganging up with her against me?”

William laughed as he stood back up, holding out his hand to Scully to help her stand up. The porch light blinked on, causing several flies to quickly scatter. The sun had all but disappeared, leaving a pale purple sky and a hazy moon overhead. The wind kicked up, but he thought he heard an owl hooting from the tree line. It was the safest and most comfortable he could recall feeling in a long time. “Maybe I am.”


End file.
